Hugo and Frank remained inside Frank’s apartment, crouched near the window, peering through a narrow gap in the blinds. Outside, the Enclave stood in formation, their leader positioned at the center with an air of command, exuding authority that demanded attention.

  He was a striking figure, not in the way of brute force, but in presence. He wasn’t the biggest man in the group, but something about him made him feel larger than life. He carried himself with the easy confidence of a man who had killed before and had no problem doing it again. His clothes were clean—practical, but a cut above the usual scavenged rags. A tactical jacket, dark jeans, boots that hadn’t seen months of decay. His face was sharp, all edges and purpose, with cold blue eyes that missed nothing. A scar ran from the corner of his mouth down to his chin, twisting his smirk into something permanently lopsided. His dark hair was cropped short, and a light stubble covered his jaw, just enough to give him a rugged, seasoned look.

  He looked up toward the apartment, as if he could see them watching. When he spoke, his voice was smooth—calm, persuasive. The kind of voice that belonged to a man who was used to being obeyed.

  “Gentlemen,” he called out, tone almost casual. “I’m going to assume you’ve been watching us as much as we’ve been watching you. So let’s not waste time pretending we don’t know what’s happening here.”

  Hugo’s jaw clenched. Frank didn’t move, his rifle steady in his hands.

  The leader continued, pacing slowly. “One of my men was following you last night, but he never came back. That’s a problem. I don’t like problems.” He stopped, looking up again. “And when I have problems, I solve them.”

  Frank let out a slow breath. “He’s fishing.”

  Hugo nodded. The guy didn’t know what had happened to his scout, but he wanted to see if they’d react.

  Hugo leaned closer to the window and called out. “If your man’s missing, that’s not our problem.”

  The leader let out a short laugh. “Oh, but it is.”

  Silence hung between them. Then the man’s voice turned sharper. “Here’s the deal. This city’s dangerous. You know that. But we’re offering protection. We keep the worst of the dead off these streets, we make sure no one else moves in on our territory.” He gestured broadly. “That includes you. You want to stay here? Fine. But you pay tribute. Supplies. Food. Medicine. And in return, we make sure nothing… unfortunate happens to you.”

  Hugo narrowed his eyes. “Sounds more like extortion than protection.”

  The leader’s grin widened. “Call it what you want. Doesn’t change the facts.”

  Frank exhaled through his nose. “And if we say no?”

  The leader tilted his head, considering. “Well, then I’m afraid we’ll have to take what we need by force.”

  Hugo glanced at Frank, who met his gaze with a grim nod. No way in hell they were going to roll over for these bastards.

  “Here’s my counteroffer,” Hugo said. “Go to hell.”

  The leader let out a long sigh, almost disappointed. Then he turned to his men. “Kill them.”

  Gunfire erupted, shattering the window as Frank and Hugo dove for cover. Bullets ripped through the walls, sending splinters of wood and plaster into the air. Frank rolled onto his stomach, raising his rifle and firing a quick shot through the broken window. One of the masked men dropped instantly.

  “They’re coming!” Hugo shouted, shoving a table onto its side for cover just as the apartment door burst open. The first Enclave thug through the door barely had time to react before Frank put a bullet through his chest. The man crumpled, but another was right behind him, firing wildly into the room. Hugo ducked as the couch cushions exploded in a cloud of stuffing.

  Frank fired again, but this time, they were ready. Two more men stormed in, forcing him to duck behind the kitchen counter. Hugo gripped his crowbar, heart hammering, waiting for an opening. One of the men moved to flank Frank—

  Hugo didn’t hesitate. He surged forward, swinging the crowbar with both hands. The metal connected with the man’s knee, shattering it with a sickening crunch. The thug screamed, collapsing as Hugo brought the crowbar down again, silencing him permanently.

  But the distraction cost them. The remaining Enclave soldier raised his gun and fired—

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Frank grunted, staggering back against the counter. Blood bloomed across his shirt.

  “No!” Hugo lunged at the attacker, smashing his crowbar into the man’s skull with a desperate, furious strike. The man crumpled, but outside, more footsteps pounded up the stairs. More were coming.

  Frank slumped against the counter, gripping his wound. “Dammit, kid… looks bad.”

  “Shut up, don’t say that.” Hugo grabbed him, trying to put pressure on the wound, but the old man shook his head.

  “Too late for me.” Frank’s grip tightened on Hugo’s arm. “Don’t let them take you. Make ‘em work for it.”

  The door burst open again.

  Hugo barely had time to react before something struck him hard across the temple. Stars exploded in his vision as he hit the floor. Rough hands yanked him up, forcing his arms behind his back.

  Through his blurred vision, he saw Frank raise his rifle one last time, blood dripping from his lips.

  Then—

  A gunshot.

  Frank’s body crumpled.

  “No!” Hugo roared, struggling against his captors, but a heavy fist crashed into his jaw, sending him spiraling into darkness.

  The last thing he heard was the leader’s voice, low and satisfied.

  “Welcome to the Enclave.”

  Pain dragged him back to consciousness.

  Hugo’s head lolled forward, his skull throbbing like a war drum. A sharp, burning ache spread across his cheek where he had been struck. He was seated, arms bound tightly behind him. The rough scrape of rope dug into his wrists.

  Slowly, he lifted his head.

  The leader stood before him, rolling his shoulders like a man preparing for a long conversation. The dim candlelight flickered, casting shadows along the cracked walls. Hugo was in another apartment, stripped of his weapons, blood dried at the corner of his mouth.

  The leader knelt down, leveling those cold blue eyes with him.

  “You went down faster than I expected,” he said smoothly. “I was hoping for a bit more of a fight.”

  Hugo worked his jaw, tasting copper. “Go fuck yourself.”

  The leader chuckled. “See, that’s the problem. You still think you have options.”

  He reached to his side, pulled a knife from his belt, and twirled it lazily. “I know you’ve been watching the city. I know you’ve seen how this world works now. And yet, you chose to make this difficult.”

  Hugo met his gaze without flinching. “I choose not to be your bitch.”

  The leader exhaled through his nose, like a disappointed teacher. Then, without warning, he drove the knife into Hugo’s thigh.

  Hugo hissed, body jerking against the restraints as pain flared through his leg.

  The leader leaned in close. “Let’s try this again,” he murmured. “Where’s my man?”

  Hugo clenched his teeth, breath coming sharp through his nose.

  The leader twisted the blade.

  A choked sound escaped Hugo’s throat, but he refused to scream.

  The leader smiled. “Take your time. We have all night.”

  Hugo sucked in a ragged breath, glaring up at him. His pulse pounded in his ears.

  He had to find a way out of this.

  Hugo worked his jaw, tasting copper. “How long was I out?”

  The leader smirked. “Does it matter?”

  Hugo’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’d like to know how much time your man knocked me out.”

  The leader chuckled, tapping his knife against Hugo’s thigh—the same leg he had stabbed before. “Why does it matter?”

  Hugo clenched his teeth. “Figured I’d ask before you got bored and decided to slit my throat.”

  The leader’s grin widened. “You’re assuming I’ll get bored.”

  He twisted the knife slightly. Hugo inhaled sharply, but he refused to let the bastard see him break.

  The leader sighed. “You’re really not going to make this easy, are you?”

  Hugo lifted his chin defiantly. “Go fuck yourself.”

  The leader’s expression darkened.

  Then, without warning, he drove his fist into Hugo’s gut, knocking the air from his lungs. As Hugo gasped, the leader leaned in close.

  “We’re just getting started.”

  Hugo let the pain wash over him, rolling his shoulders back against the chair. His breath came in short, controlled bursts. He wouldn’t let this bastard see him break.

  The leader stood back, flexing his fingers like he was deciding where to hit next.

  “I’ll tell you what,” he said casually, pacing the room. “You give me something, and I’ll give you something. You tell me where my man is, and I’ll tell you how long you’ve been out.”

  Hugo exhaled slowly through his nose.

  He had two options: Lie or tell the truth. If they didn’t already know what had happened to the scout, they had no way to verify. But if he lied, and they found the truth later, they’d kill him in a heartbeat.

  So he went with something in between.

  “He’s dead.”

  The leader stopped pacing, tilting his head slightly. “How?”

  Hugo locked eyes with him. “He ran into something worse than us.”

  A flicker of interest crossed the leader’s face. “Worse?”

  Hugo didn’t blink. “Mutants. Runners. Whatever the hell they are, they tore him apart.”

  For a moment, the leader studied him, like he was weighing whether or not to believe him. Then, surprisingly, he let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah. I figured something happened to him.” He shook his head. “Idiot was too cocky for his own good.”

  Hugo narrowed his eyes. “You don’t seem too broken up about it.”

  The leader gave a lazy shrug. “He wasn’t the first. Won’t be the last.” He stepped closer, leaning down until their faces were nearly level. “But you, Hugo—you’re still alive. That makes you a whole lot more valuable.”

  Hugo refused to lean back. “So? I told you where your man is. Now tell me.”

  The leader smirked. “You were out for five minutes.”

  Hugo blinked. “Five minutes?”

  The leader chuckled at his surprise. “I don’t like to waste time.”

  Hugo clenched his jaw. “If you were going to kill me, you would’ve done it already.”

  The leader’s grin widened. “That’s the spirit.” He tapped the hilt of his knife against Hugo’s leg again, lightly this time. “But you’ve got it backward. I don’t need to kill you. I need to know what’s in that head of yours.”

  Hugo inhaled slowly. “You’re not getting shit from me.”

  The leader let out a dramatic sigh. “See, that’s what Frank said too.”

  Hugo stiffened.

  The leader watched him closely, looking for a crack.

  “Old bastard went out with some fire, I’ll give him that. But in the end?” He leaned in, voice lowering. “He still bled like anyone else.”

  Hugo’s fingers curled into fists behind the chair. A slow burn of fury crawled up his spine, threatening to boil over.

  The leader studied his face, and for a moment, his smirk almost seemed amused. Like he enjoyed seeing how much he could push before Hugo snapped.

  Then, suddenly, he straightened, clapping his hands once. “Alright, enough of this back and forth. You’re smart enough to know your situation. You don’t have to die here, Hugo.”

  Hugo let out a sharp laugh. “And let me guess. If I ‘cooperate,’ you’ll let me live?”

  The leader nodded. “Exactly. See? You catch on quick.”

  Hugo gave him a hollow smile. “I’d rather take my chances with the dead.”

  The leader tsked, shaking his head. “That’s the wrong answer.”

  He raised the knife again—

  Then a knock at the door.

  One of the Enclave soldiers stepped inside, helmet still on. “Sir, we need to move soon. Too much noise.”

  The leader sighed, rolling his shoulders. “Yeah, yeah.” He turned back to Hugo, lips curling into a smirk. “Looks like you get a little more time to think about your options.”

  Hugo met his gaze with a defiant glare. “Go fuck yourself.”

  The leader just laughed. “Oh, I like you, Hugo. Let’s see if that attitude holds up tomorrow.”

  Then he turned and walked out, leaving Hugo alone in the dark, tied to the chair, blood dripping from his mouth.